


I've got some complaints.

by Mareridt



Series: 31 Sterek Fics - August edition [8]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Awesome Allison, Awesome Scott McCall, Background Relationships, Handyman Derek Hale, Landlord Derek, M/M, Scott McCall & Stiles Stilinski Friendship, Stiles has a new flat, Stiles has hots for his landlord, Stiles lives alone, hot handyman Derek Hale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-09
Updated: 2016-08-09
Packaged: 2018-08-07 14:23:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7718209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mareridt/pseuds/Mareridt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Well, let me tell you I've got a few things to say to the landlord when he shows up” Stiles commented, spacing around the loft. “Since he finally agreed to show up.”<br/>The man's eyebrows raised up, a sincerely curious expression on his face. “Oh? Like what?”<br/>“My kitchen sink literally blew up more than once and I can't use my television because the aerial doesn't take well in my flat. Do you want me to keep going? Because I can. For like an hour. Sorry, I've dumped all of this on you and I don't even know your name” Stiles apologized, still pacing around.<br/>The man looked for some unknown reason like he was about to laugh. “It's Derek Hale, actually.” Stiles stopped dead in his tracks, anger trasforming in fear. Oh, fuck. “I own the building.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	I've got some complaints.

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: Stiles finally scraped together enough money to get his own apartment and he’s really fucking proud of it, OK? He just wishes shit would stop breaking. He also wishes he hadn’t just bitched out his incredibly hot landlord, but that ship has sailed right along with Stiles dignity. FROM THIS POST HERE: http://frostniskare.tumblr.com/post/146895256578/were-dragon-hoechlinth-ok-then-i-am-isaac
> 
> Unbetad! Be kind, leave lots of kudos and comments, they're greatly appreciated! Also you can find me on tumblr at frostniskare.tumblr.com

 

When Stiles had enough money to move out from the college's dorm, he thanked God for that opportunity to not sleep anymore in that awful creeking bad.

Scott helped him pick one out of the buildings closer to the campus and for the first days it seemed like a great affair. He got a contract, he paid the rent, and moved there in the day. The living room was quite large, with enough space to place all the consoles and the tv he took with himself from his dad's house, a shelf where to place his videogames and DVDs and some of his books.

The couch was already there and it was comfortable to say at least, same with the bed. He brought in just some blankets and his pillow. The kitchen was easy to use, the bathroom had both a shower and a bathtub. His room became in less than three hours a place that screamed 'Stiles' wherever you look, and Stiles was so very proud of that.

He decided he'd take care of that gold flat... at least until things started to break.

Yeah, he knew he was a literal walking disaster, but it wasn't his fault, okay? Suddenly, the water pressure raised so much the sink in the kitchen literally exploded. He was lucky he was cleaning the fridge, so he was hidden and didn't get hit by any flying metal object.

He tried to do without it for a few days, but Stiles really needed that sink, he couldn't keep using the bathroom's one, so he called a plumber and asked how he could reduce that mess and turn using his kitchen. Fortunately, the plumber told him he could fix it at least a bit without changing the tubes; unfortunately, that would cost Stiles a small fortune, which he had promised himself to spend for some good friends' time with Scott and the others during winter break.

Well, figures he couldn't do that anymore if he wanted to wash dishes like a normal human being.

He wrote an email to his landlord right after a plumber finished his work and left, and prayed that would be the end of it or the start of a long break from the next accident. But he was Stiles, and Stiles didn't get his wishes grunted.

So it was no surprise when the following week his oven broke as well. It didn't work anymore, not turning on and barely closing; Stiles was forced to write a second email and use the microwave from that moment on. It was actually awful, being forced to that, warming up burgers' bread and canned soup.

Scott eventually lend him a small oven he didn't use, so he could eat something edible from time to time, which made his best buddy rise up to the best human being on the whole planet in Stiles' list. Hoping he was done, Stiles got another accident not a long time after: there had been a blackout in his whole flat, and _that_ , my friend, was the end of the world.

He had an important essay to send in the following morning, and since his laptop battery was broken he was living on electric power, which fucking ran out bringing with it all Stiles' improvement in a night. He literally screamed at the top of his lungs and cursed in three different languages – he knew some cursing words in Italian and French, the last ones because of Allison – and tried to fight his urgent need to smash the laptop against the wall.

Istead, he got up, put everything he needed and drove to Scott and Allison's appartment, not caring it was 2 am in the morning. When he rang the bell, Scott like the best buddy he was answered in less than ten minutes, yawning and asking what the problem was. “Scott, buddy, you gotta help me out” Stiles begged. “Lights ran out in my flight and my laptop died and I still have to send in Mr. Grey's essay.”

Scott was wide awake in a second. “The guest room is clean, you want me to make you coffee?” Stiles couldn't help but smooch him until he tried to lock him out again.

“Scott, you lifesafer, I owe you” he cried out, running into the guest room to set his laptop. In the end he sent the essay in with just a five minutes' delay. He thanked Scott again for letting him stay there as long as he needed, ready to stumble out of there to get back in his bed and sleep for a while.

“No problem, bro” Scott sincerely said. “But I think you should stay here. You look like a zombie ready to collapse, driving shouldn't be an option for now. The guest room is still yours, Allison will wake you up later if you want.”

Stiles looked at Allison, who nodded and flashed at him a dimpled smile. “Tell me when and I'll be your morning alarm.” Stiles groaned in relief and hugged both of them.

“You're the sweetiest, I'd be dead without you” he winked and thanked them again, then proceeded to die for the next five hours tucked safely in the bad in their guest room. Allison woke him up as promised, and he felt better to say at least.

Waving a goodbye, he grabbed his full bag again and drove back to his still new home, hoping to not find the flat burned down. He, however, stopped dead in his track when he closed the door and went into the kitchen.

It didn't burn down, and the sink wasn't worse then when he left, but the fridge... Well, let's say without lights on all the ice inside his freezer melted, and now a pool of water covered his floor. Probably also the food inside the fridge had deteriorated during the night. And as if that wasn't enough bad, he also remembered that after lunch there was one of the most important game of his favourite baseball team, the Mets, but since lights hadn't still turned, he was doomed.

Stiles asked around the building if someone else had these many problems, and even if some of them actually broke something or had accidents like his, no one was actually persecuted by bad luck. He wrote another email to Derek Hale, the landlord, not caring of the lack of answers for the previous complaints, and the last one actually reached the limit of three thousands words, so Stiles had a lot to complain of.

During the following month he got to complain even more and meet some of his neighbours, like that Isaac Lahey in the third floor. Well, he didn't exactly meet him for the _first_ time, okay, they were both from Beacon Hills, but he didn't exactly recognize the snob I-wear-scarves-even-during-summer guy with the quietest lacrosse teammate he had in high school.

At the first building meeting he did participate not every flatmate was present, especially their landlor, and all Stiles was able to do was complain even more and bond with the others over mutual problems. Damn it, he thought he could finally be independent and responsible, but in a flat like that? He was soon going to be broke if he kept on using his own money to repair his not-so-own flat.

The shower-head broke not longer after the sink exploded for the second time, and also the freezer stopped working. Things were getting a true hell for him, but Stiles knew he couldn't still admit defeat, or he'd hear some from his father, who warned him he still wasn't all that ready to get a flat on his own, and that that very own apartment had look like a giant fraud to him.

Stiles still wasn't ready to let him win, not like that.

So during winter break he spoke like he was having the time of his life, Scott and Allison playing along for his sake, but when holidays ended and he was back in college, Stiles wondered if admitting his mistake and turning back to campus would have been too bad.

Yes, of course it would have, what the _hell_ was he thinking?

Finally, _finally_ , he got an email saying that the landlord had finally come back in town and that the next building meeting would be at his attic loft, even if he didn't step in in a long time. Stiles couldn't wait.

Actually, he was so eager of meeting the guy that he listed on a sheet every fucking problem his flat had, even in alphabetic order just to spite him, and the day the building meeting was, he walked there earlier to prepare his life-long speech full of complaints and insults, sure he'd be alone at least for a while.

Buuut nope. There was someone else in the loft, a very... _handsome_ man sitting on the circle spiraling stairs, looking around as if he had never been there before. Stiles frowned, not sliding completely the door but entering nonetheless.

“Are you here for the building meeting?” he asked, drawing the man's piercing eyes on him. He had angry eyebrows, perfect stubble on a perfect jaw, pouty lips just on the right side of 'pouty', mesmering irises with colors stuck somewhere between green and blue and brown – maybe also a little grey? – and checking out also his body wasn't that a solid 200 pounds of muscles in front of him?

The man nodded, still looking around. “Yeah, I'm waiting for everyone else to show up” he answered. Oh, Stiles thought, maybe it was another of the frequently absent flatmates who decided to show up to tell something to the landlord themselves since he finally considered them worthy of his presence.

“Well, let me tell you I've got a few things to say to the landlord when he shows up” Stiles commented, spacing around the loft. “Since he _finally_ agreed to show up.”

The man's eyebrows raised up, a sincerely curious expression on his face. “Oh? Like what?” he asked. He probably wondered what problems had Stiles while he had his own; yeah, bonding over problems, he already did that before.

“Well, my water's pressure is terrible, my oven's broken and that's just the start” he answered, feeling anger bubbling up inside him. “My kitchen sink literally blew up more than once and I can't use my television because the aerial doesn't take well in my flat. Do you want me to keep going? Because I can. For like an _hour_.”

The other man looked dumbfounded at the evident display of useless flat and he looked pretty guilty too, as if sensing that Stiles was about to vent all his anger on him. “Sorry, I've dumped all of this on you and I don't even know your name” Stiles apologized, still pacing around.

The man looked for some unknown reason like he was about to laugh. “It's Derek Hale, actually.” Stiles stopped dead in his tracks, anger trasforming in fear. Oh, _fuck_. “I own the building.” Derek smiled and shrugged, having also the decency of looking pretty sheepish, but that didn't change the fact that Stiles just vented about his complaints about the poor job of the landlord _to the –_ inredibly hot _– landlord_.

He understood later that Derek was waiting for him to introduce himself as well. “Oh, okay. Then, I'm Isaac Lahey and I live in 3B, wear to many scarves and am in no way affiliated with Stiles Stilinski. Whoever _that_ is...” he chuckled nervously in the end, but judging by the amused smirk Derek was showing off, he didn't play him. Awesome. He was about to get kicked out.

“Stiles, I've read your emails” Derek said matter-of-factly. “Today, actually, but I did. I know your flat was the more problematic of the building, and you probably had to spend a lot of money since I wasn't here to take care of that.”

Stiles swallowed hard, waiting for his death command. That didn't came. “I'm sorry for that.”

Stiles blinked. “Wait, what? You're sorry?” he frowned. “You aren't about to kick me out?”

Derek laughed. “Why would I do that? I surprised you didn't call out yourself before of this, instead.”

“Well, I'd rather live in a shitty flat with a comfy bed than in a good dorm room with an awful bed. At least I can sleep.” Stiles bounced on his feet a couple of time, the loft engulfed in silence. “So, what now?”

“Now we wait for the others” Derek shrugged again. “I've been away for a while visiting my sister in Africa, and I haven't been keeping up with my duties of landlord, but I could start with you since you've already exposed the matters enough. Maybe do a list and give it to me? I'll see what I can do.”

Stiles chewed on his lips. “I already have a list” he confessed. “I prepared it before coming here, since... you know, I wanted to take my chance to complain.”

Derek laughed again. “Alright, alright, just give it to me” he held out his hand for Stiles to let the list, and while he was reading it some other flatmates came in. They greeted Derek with something akin to respect, and Stiles saw how much luck he had at not knowing him before hand. There was no way he could say everything his flat had wrong to someone so hot and blatantly strong in fear of getting kicked out or beaten up.

It was exactly how the meeting went, no one really talked freely, Derek watching amused every one of them. He concluded saying that everyone could send him an email with what was wrong, and then the loft slowly emptied, Stiles among the last ones.

“Hey, Stiles” Derek called for him, returning to seat on the stairs. Stiles turned around, confused.

“Yes, Derek?”

His hot landlord held out the list for him to see. “I'm going to start taking care of this from tomorrow, but feel free to come to me whatever breaks again in your flat, okay? No worries, it'll be all on me, you won't need to pay anything of it, I could also repay you for some of the costs.” Derek smiled openly at him, bunny teeth showing, and Stiles tried to be subtle when he swallowed hard with his throat as dry as sandpaper.

“Sure thing, boss” Stiles joked, winking at him. “Don't need to get repayed, just make sure I won't need to spend any more money on it, okay?” said that, he literally ran away from the loft.

 

 

Two days after, Stiles came home to a flat full of noise and grunts, and he thought professionals had finally come to take care of his kitchen. He let his school bag and laptop on the couch, walking slowly to the kitchen not to bother the worker, but he tripped over his own feet and nearly brained himself against the table there when he saw who it was.

“Derek, what are you doing here?” he asked when he could stand safely on his feet again, Derek's eyes stuck on him with concern.

Derek looked at the freezer he was fixing and at Stiles. “I'm working? What does it look to you?” he asked, confused.

“I thought... I thought you could call someone, not actually come and do that yourself” and it was the most reasonable thing to do, wasn't it? Unless Derek wanted to kill Stiles, looking all hot and bothered with a sweaty shirt while fixing his apartment.

“Well, there's just so many people I can call, and your is not the only flat with some problems” Derek explained, arching an eyebrow. “So I figured out I could take advantage of my skills of handyman and resolve something with my own two hands.”

Stiles stared. “Great!” he erupted in the end, his voice just a touch of hysteric. “Do you want something? Coffee, tea, biscuits...”

The other smiled. “Coffee will do, thanks.”

 

 

So it started.

Every couple of days Derek would come over, listen to what Stiles still needed to repair, and simply said “Yeah, I can fix that.” for what turned out to be a routine that lasted _months_.

Stiles thought it was completely hell. Once, he came back from classes to find Derek deep in the oven, greasy and dirty, and he almost told him it would be better without shirt so he could work without worrying of getting his clothes dirty. It wasn't exactly a bad idea, but Stiles was afraid he wouldn't be able to resist jumping his bones in similar occasion.

Then, another time, he found him shirtless in the shower, working with the shower-head. “I had just finished fixing the sink in the kitchen and my clother were pretty wet, so I took off the shirt to let it dry on the window” Derek explained when Stiles almost yelled at him in shock. “I hope you don't mind.”

Stile swallowed. “No. No, I don't mind. I don't mind at all.” he said, his voice weirdely high pitched. “I'll bring coffee in a while.”

Derek stayed over for dinner too a couple of times, and Stiles found himself drawn so much to that awesome human being he started breaking things on purpose to make him come over. After the third evening he spent here, Derek wrote his number on a post-it. “So you can text me beforehand for when I have to come here” he justified the action.

Stiles didn't exactly believe it was all – or better, chose not to – because even if innocently, the two of them flirted a bit. Okay, not so innocently. _Fine_ , they flirted a lot. Not that any of them actually acted on it. He wondered if he should have by now, but anytime Derek came over he couldn't bring himself to.

What if he read the signs wrong? What if Derek was just being a polite landlord? Ugh, too many questions and no freaking answers. He was going to lose his mind.

 

 

Stiles didn't expect to find anyone in his apartment when he came home that friday.

He was actually sure Derek was nowhere to be seen there for the next 24 hours, so he threw his things on the bed and slowly took his clothes off, stopping at the underwear. He sipped water in the kitchen – yes, in nothing but his boxers – and walked straight to the bathroom, glad he broke just the shower for Derek to come in a couple of days and not the tub. He seriously needed a warm bath.

He walked in and closed the door, stretching himself and looking for the softest of robes to put on next, then turned toward the tub and opened the water to slowly fill it.

“Can you please undress later? I'd like not to be sued for stalking and sexual harrassment.” suddenly a voice spoke, startling Stiles so that he flailed outward and ended in the water, his boxer soaking wet and making him shiver.

“What the hell, Derek?” Stiles exclaimed. “What are you doing here?”

Derek raised an eyebrow, shirtless and in his shower. “I'm pretty sure you texted me and asked me to come over.”

Stiles snorted. “I didn't ask you to come today. I asked you come on friday a couple of days ago.” Derek sighed like Stiles was a dumb kid. Which was probably true. It occurred lately to Stiles that he might have mistaken the day. “Fuck, don't tell me today is friday.”

Derek nodded, turning his attention at the shower-head he was trying to fix again. “Happy to know you forgot about that. Don't worry, I'll finish this and get out of your hair.”

Stiles got out of the bathtub. “No, I... Stay, I just forgot, I know, but it's not a big deal” he tried to apologize. “I'll just get out and leave your to your work.”

“Take the robe or you'll freeze” Derek said. “I won't be busy for long.”

“Oh, good to know.”

Derek hummed, about to speak again. “Yeah, you didn't break it that bad for me to stay long on it. But I might think of changing it if you keep this on.”

Stiles' eyes widened in alarm. “I- what?” he stuttered. “I didn't break it. It was an accident.”

Derek sent him a knowing smirk. “Yeah, yeah, keep telling you that.”

The boy flushed with anger and embarass, fisting his hands. “Ugh, fuck you” he growled, annuling the distance between the two of them until he had Derek pressed against his bathroom's tiles, shower-head long forgotten. He kissed him passionally, taking advantage of Derek's gasp of surprise to slide his tongue in, deepening the kiss.

Derek shook himself from his trance, though, and soon enough he was giving as good as Stiles, rolling them until it was Stiles the one with the back to the wall. “Fucking _finally_ ” Derek growled in his mouth, making Stiles laugh.

“Oh, yeah, Sourwolf?” asked the boy. “Maybe I was just waiting for a better time to complain.”

Derek kissed him again, then left his mouth to kiss a path down his jaw to his neck. “What about?” he demanded, biting down his wet skin.

“I don't know” moaned Stiles, arching his back. “I think... I think the couch is broken” he mumbled. “But maybe the bed is in worse condition. I wanted to know if you could give it a look, say how bad it is.”

Derek hummed again against his neck, vibrations running all along his nerves. “Mhh, I think the bed could be a more serious question” he groaned, gripping Stiles' hips when he pressed against his bulge and _rubbed it with his own_.

“I think you're right” Stiles jumped on him, chuckling light when Derek took him by the ass without any apparent effort. He walked them out of the shower and back into the bedroom, where he threw Stiles on the bed with not to much eagerness.

“Let's see what I have to fix, then” Derek followed Stiles straight on, his mouth searching for his. Stiles just laughed before moaning and totally giving in.

 

 

In the afterglow, Derek and Stiles was cuddling in a mess of entangled limbs and blankets. “You know, Stiles...” Derek mumbled sleepily, Stiles' nails scraping against his nape too relaxing for him to stay awake. “If you don't like this unlucky flat, there's always a wonderful attic loft you could check out... I happen to own that too...”

Stiles laughed breathlessly at that, chest shooking with hiccups. Derek was going to be the death of him. “I actually think that's the best idea you got out during the last month.”

 


End file.
